


soft stars that shine at night

by thrallax



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: (canon ones!), Canon Compliant, Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 06:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrallax/pseuds/thrallax
Summary: Some people are drawn together, regardless of desire, as if their very souls are magnets. You, no matter how much you feel you don't deserve it, have ever been connected to him.Sometimes, you try to be worthy of him.Often, you fail.





	soft stars that shine at night

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much just a character introspection for 2B that I wrote after playing this game. It's compliant (or at least mostly so) with everything I've read, including the concerts and The Memory Cage! Major NieR:Automata spoilers starting from the very beginning and continuing all the way through the good/true ending of concert 5.

You meet him for the first time not long after you both are made. 

“9S is the new Scanner unit,” the Commander says, her voice as cool as it has been every time you’ve heard it. You mimic her, without intending to.

“You, 2E, are our new Executioner unit.” The name doesn’t sound like you - it doesn’t not sound like you, either. Your head is empty. You nod.

You are one of the first of your kind, and so is he. There are few legitimate 2Bs running around, and less 9Ss. You think you should feel pride, but your colorless eyes simply stay focused on the Commander, as you’re not yet bound by the visor that will obscure your eyes. You’re still - here. Still an infant, technically.

“If 9S is to learn classified data, you will fulfill your duty as an executioner, and we will rid him of the offending data.”

9S doesn’t mean anything to you - you know it’s another unit (you’ve seen them - seen  _ him  _ \- but don’t know it) - but right now it just sounds like a number and a letter, meaningless. Even if it were a YoRHa android, you don’t know him.

You don’t care.

Emotions are prohibited. You nod.

“Execution class androids are a secret, so you’ll be called 2B.”

2B. 2E. Neither one means anything. Neither one is your name. Nothing here matters. You nod, gaze blank, at the Commander, before someone ties your blindfold for you.

A peppy voice is behind you. “I’m Operator 6O, 2B! I’m the operator assigned to you.”

“Emotions are prohibited-” your voice is flat. Dispassionate. The operator laughs, and she ruffles the short, silver strands of your hair as she does. The Commander doesn’t reprimand her, and the corners of your mouth twist upwards, just slightly. Emotions are prohibited, but maybe -

The first time, you aren’t cautious. You don’t know enough to be. 9S - Nines, he insists, and you concede - is cheerful. He reminds you, honestly, quite a bit, of 6O. Happy. Brightens the world around him simply by being.

“Commander,” you say. “I don’t think this is correct. Nines -  _ Unit 9S  _ \- is not a threat to YoRHa.”

Her lips do something that may have been a smile - may have been a grimace. You don’t know. You will never know.

You keep that faith - Nines is no danger to anyone, except himself, when he gets too curious and too wrapped up in his own theories to pay attention to his surroundings. You believe you have no purpose. You believe…

You believe wrong.

“2B - listen to me, the humans -” Whatever he’s saying will get you killed, too. You slap him away from you, his hand off your shirt sleeve, and the curiosity and concern and worry evaporate in just seconds. He looks hurt.

You don’t look at his face as your fingers curl about his throat and tense, hard, and hold until his scrabbling fingers stop reaching for you, questioning eyes dimming to nothingness, and you know some of his hoarse, strangled noises had been questions.  _ ‘Why, 2B? Weren’t we friends? Why did you turn on me?’  _ You can practically hear them. You don’t have an answer, so you’re relieved he couldn’t actually say them, you think, wiping sweat from your face as your pod confirms - Nines’ black box is offline.

The first time, you cry - and rightfully so. You’ve never killed another YoRHa, never fulfilled your responsibility as 2E, until now. Until your friend. His body remains, lifeless and unmoving, cooling as his consciousness has left it, and you have to return to the Bunker, body and black box in tow. You were already quiet, but you’re quieter now.

“Unit 9S engaged in an attempt to disclose classified information. I neutralized him accordingly.” You don’t sound like you just killed your friend - you don’t sound like you’ve killed anyone. Your eyes are steely under the blindfold, and you stare fearlessly into the Commander’s eyes - you think she can feel it.

“Good work, 2B. After 9S is reactivated, you’ll eventually be reassigned to him, since you know what his tells are.”

When you close your eyes, you see 9S’ too fragile seeming body lying limp on the ground. It doesn’t  _ feel _ like good work.

         It feels like murder.

* * *

 

9S awakens, wiped clean. Just like the first time, he is so excited to meet you - “You’re 2B, huh? Guess we’ll be working together? That sounds fantastic -” and he laughs, and it sounds like  _ Nines, _ even if it isn’t. 

(Your Nines is dead.)

“Take care of me, okay? I heard 9S models are a little impulsive.”

(Nines was.)

You can - and should - respond. You should smile as faint as you can, and tell him that you’re looking forward to it too, but you don't. This imposter in 9S’ skin unsettles you. What you did to Nines, whom you cared so much for, unsettles you. You should not be trusted with this kindness. You should not be-

“Operator 6O to 2B! Come in, 2B!” The familiar voice rings in your ears. She knows what you are. She doesn’t hate you. It’s reassuring - but she should. She should despise you, fear you. 

“2B here. Regularly scheduled contact?”

“Oh, no, 2B, that’s not it at all! I just wanted to talk -” and you’re no good at emotion, but you can tell she’s worried. Why?

“Chatter distracts me from the mission. Is there mission relevant data to be shared?”

“...” Before she even speaks, you can hear the hurt and worry. “Um - oh, no, I guess not - it’s just - hey, 2B?”

“Yes, Operator?” 

“... If you ever needed to talk, I’m here!”

“Understood. 2B out.”

The silence after 6O disconnects is more deafening than it was before she had contacted you. Talk… about what? That you’re a cold blooded murderer, who hurt one of the only ones to ever care about her?

9S always overhears your communications with 6O, as you do with him and 21O (and you think 21O doesn’t like you - reasonably so. She gets wiped from him, too, she knows what you do. She knows why you do it. But he still forgets her too. In those days, she, too, was softer. Everyone was.), and you know he doesn’t understand.

“Hey, 2B? Ma’am?” Ma’am makes you feel good - makes you feel like a stranger to him. Nines never would have called you that… Never. You never would have been ma’am to him, and you miss him, but he’s gone and this isn’t him, 9S tells you every time he calls you ma’am. You grunt an acknowledgement and look over at him, waiting. 

“I’d kill for an operator like 6O. You really shouldn’t be so harsh on her…”

_ ‘Then kill me,’  _ you nearly say, biting it back physically with your teeth sunk into the artificial flesh inside your mouth. 

This time, you aren’t close. You don’t look at him, and so nothing he does can hurt you. You don’t think about how his laugh is the same, and you don’t think about the way he picks the same words, and you don’t - … you don’t. You don’t. You feel nothing for him. It’s easier, this time. You run him through with your sword, careful of where he keeps his black box. He grunts, and blood is coughed and drips down his lips, and you don’t feel anything. The fact that you vow to never kill him like this again means nothing - you don’t care, but there’s no cause to make an android suffer. You don’t care.

_ (You know that isn’t true.) _

“2B to Operator 6O. Objective completed. I will return to the bunker.”

“... Operator 6O here. Okay, 2B. Completion acknowledged. See you soon.” Even 6O’s voice is more subdued - maybe this time, this second time, she’ll have come to hate you.

6O finds you, while 9S is being wiped and reset and repaired, and she sits next to you. She idly toys with the end of one braid and you say nothing, simply sitting and waiting for her to spit it out - she’s asking for reassignment. You’re a monster. Anything - without prompting her. What she does, though, is none of those. Her arms wrap around you, surprising you, and you close your eyes. They burn. You’re not crying. You tuck your head against her shoulder, and she holds you.

“I’m sorry, 2B… It’s not fair.”

You don’t respond, even as her small hand (soft, having never touched a sword) runs up and down your back. You aren’t crying. She doesn’t call you on it.

“You’re a good person, 2B. I know it.”

The two of you sit there, 6O holding you, for hours, it seems. Maybe it was. It’s the first time since the first order came in, months ago, to kill 9S, that you’ve felt peace.

 

* * *

 

It gets harder, each time. Each time, it’s like parts of him stay. He forgets you, of course, but little habits remain. He remembers he likes baths. He has quirks, ways he speaks, that remain. His laugh never changes, and it’s not the same amongst all 9S models - you’ve heard them.

Somewhere, you fear, you hope, you know, you refuse to admit,  _ Nines _ is in there.

But Nines is in there, and Nines is the one you have to kill. You slip, sometimes. You call him Nines, sometimes, sometimes before he’s asked, and sometimes 9S says something that makes you feel like Nines is here, and you turn, a small smile in place because of course you would smile for Nines, before you remember.

You’re always harsher on him, those times. Punishing him for your crimes. Punishing him for his blood on your hands, as if it was his fault he’s just as curious and smart as they made him. 

What could he be if he was allowed to develop, you wonder. How smart would he become? How competent? 

You try a variety of methods. Stabbing. Choking. Decapitation. Anything and everything. No two murders back to back are the same, because you’ll go mad enacting this the same way.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes you wonder if you feel like home to him, like he does to you - but you hate yourself for it. You don’t deserve that.

Emotions are prohibited. _You move on._

 

* * *

 

Eventually, 9S attacks you back - it’s only fair. You hope he kills you, that whole attack, but he doesn’t. He couldn’t. Not with the commander as your brains, and you as the muscle. He never forgets how to use that sword, and every time he swings it you have that vague wish it would be into you. It would be the best form of karma available.

Then again, you don’t believe in karma. You should be dead a thousand times over, if it were real.

_ “Goodbye, 2B.” _ His words echo in your head. Goodbye. 

Why doesn’t he hate you?

 

* * *

 

Now, you think back and you can’t remember which version of 9S began to fall for you. Maybe it was the very first - maybe it was Nines who loved you, and every version after has simply been building on it. 

You don’t know when you began to fall for him - but why wouldn’t you? He’s kind. Funny. Personable. Everything you aren’t - can’t be. He’s got a sarcastic streak, and his curiosity applies to everything, even you.

“Hey, 2B, ma’am?” You look over at him. You say less words in general, these days, try to hope people leave you alone. Your shoulders, able to bear so much, feel on the verge of collapse. 

He’s new, this 9S, and you have to struggle to keep the over-irritation from your voice. “Just call me 2B. Stop being formal.”

He yelps, like he expects you to hit him. Good boy. Maybe this one will be the one to kill you, end this, if he already expects you to be violent towards him. 

“Oh, um - sure. Thank you, 2B. Um, so - I just wanted to say, I’m glad you’re my partner. I know what they say about number 2s, but you’re --” 

He flounders, and you know it’s because practically everything they say about your personality type is true for you. Instead of helping him out, you just stare and wait - eventually, his face flushes and he looks away.

“Um - well, I’m glad to work with you.”

That one falls a month and a half later.

Stabbing.

 

* * *

 

Choking.

 

* * *

 

Fought back, but stabbed in the back.

 

* * *

 

Cut throat.

 

* * *

 

Every time. Every time. Every time, you hope this one will be different. Every time, you love him more. Every time.

The factory facility feels… different. You meet him feeling like an old friend to him, and you can tell. You hope against hope: this will be it. Finally, a 9S who will live. Finally, one who will kill you or not need to be executed.

 

* * *

 

6O calls you in tears - your heart leaps in your chest. “Operator 6O to 2B… Time for your regularly scheduled contact…”

You’ve learned to kill everything inside you. Nothing matters, if you do. Your voice is flat: “2B here. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, there’s this operator I kind of liked, but when I asked her out, she turned me down.”

Your visored eyes slide to 9S, and you’re grateful for the fact that they obscure your line of vision, so he can’t tell how you watch him.

“Honestly, 2B? I’m not sure how I’m supposed to go on living.”

What do you know about that? Your lips thin.

“I am  _ definitely  _ not the person to discuss this with.”

But you do know something about that. You try to let go of the iron hold on your emotions, and try to tell her  _ you  _ need her.  _ ‘It would affect mission efficiency.’ _ You can’t handle another operator. Luckily -  _ luckily  _ \- 6O understands. 

“A-Are you saying you  _ need me _ , 2B?” 

_ Yes. _ “All model B units require the assistance of an operator. … So…”

_ Model B  _ reminds her. You aren’t a model B. You need her. She knows what you are, and she loves you anyway. You can’t lose that. You can’t lose the one person who cares - and doesn’t forget you.

 

* * *

 

“I didn’t know Type E models existed… Did you, 2B?”

“Some things are better left unknown.”

 

* * *

 

“ _ Please, 2B… I need you to do this… for me.” _

It’s always been for him.

You’ve wanted to defect or to beg and plead for another assignment or simply to be put down, but you can’t. You won’t. Another 2B might do it wrong. Another type E might hurt his black box. Another type E… 

No. It has to be you.

No matter how many times you’ve cried over his body. No matter how many times you’ve asked his still form to stop this - to, this time, not hack the Bunker. To please,  _ please _ , live. For you. 

It has to be you, because you love him.

Because you’ll do it right.

 

* * *

 

“Nines…” No bunker. No new body. No fifteenth chance. This is it. This is the last time.

But you see him, as you die.

And that’s enough.

_ Goodbye, Nines. Be the man I’ve always known you can be. You’ll never lose yourself again. _

Dying feels like peace.

This one is for you.

No one sees the way your lips move, the way you tell him something secret. It’s for the better.

It was for you, anyway.

 

* * *

 

You never plan to awake again - you gave A2 your sword in a symbol of acceptance; a passing on of your duties, of your memories, so that everything you were would live on in her. You had, as much as one could, accepted your death. As you had said, once, you had always known you would die, and only 9S had given you any desire to avoid that inevitable fate - and even that had only been an idle, passing fancy.

It’s nearly two and a half months before you awaken that sunny day, the light in your eyes, and your Pod fills you in on the details. You don’t want to be awake - not yet - and you know you may never want it again; it’s something you’ll have to learn to live with, much as you don’t, because you will always live - as long as 9S still breathes.

And then Pod 153 tells you - for a month, 9S has been inactive, infected by the same virus that had necessitated your own death - and you feel your body feel cold yet flash hot, temperature spiking in your panic. 

“I’ll wake you up,” you tell his body, looking for all the world in a peaceful sleep, as if he might wake up and greet you if you just brush his shoulder with your hand. “No matter what it takes - I will.”

A promise is a promise - you’ve never let him down. You pack up, and start moving.

 

* * *

 

“2B, what did I..?”

“ _I'm so glad_  - I’m so glad you’re…”

Together. The two of you are together. You don’t know how long this chance will last - but you have it. You won’t waste it. 9S - no,  _ Nines, _ is at your side, and you won’t let it go to waste. Too many have died; too many won’t have this chance you do.

Hand numb from the lack of maintenance, when you force your arm out, hand curling around his, you think that you can feel it anyway.


End file.
